


i thought u were bae... turns out u were just fam

by kzumeknma (born_to_fly)



Series: vines that cleared my skin, watered my crops, et cetera [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, M/M, Platonic Kissing, bro..., i think i'm funny which is all that matters, really it's like a dash of angst at best, someone please save akaashi and kenma, studio ghibli lofi hip hop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/born_to_fly/pseuds/kzumeknma
Summary: P!nk once said, "Na na na na na na na, I wanna start a fight."In which Kuroo boxes up, Bokuto really just wants to finish his essay, and neither of them has been quite so homo ever before in their lives.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: vines that cleared my skin, watered my crops, et cetera [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747801
Comments: 20
Kudos: 114





	i thought u were bae... turns out u were just fam

**Author's Note:**

> me, listens to 1 Hour Studio Ghibli Lofi Hip Hop Mix once, loses my goddamn mind

When Kuroo returned home from a hard day of classes and organic chemistry research, he knew he was about to start a fight. Of course, it’s not generally his intent to throw down with his bestest bud, his platonic partner for life, but times change, and there are some sins that simply cannot be atoned for.  _ Thus _ , Kuroo thought,  _ Brokuto better be ready to box up and catch these hands, because in the wise words of P!nk, na na na na na na na na, I wanna start a fight _ . 

Said platonic partner for life, Bokuto, was straight up chillin’ on the couch. Normally, this wasn’t a problem, and on a normal day, Kuroo would join him, chillin’, less than five feet apart because they’re both secure in their masculinity (and also gay, though not for each other most of the time). However, again, his dear roommate had committed a crime that left him deprived of his sanity and peace of mind. 

“Oya oya?” Kuroo said, as angrily as he could muster, which was not very angrily, since a good “oya” is inquisitive rather than accusatory by nature.

“Oya oya oya?” Bokuto responded, absentmindedly typing up the worst essay he had ever written in his entire life.

“Brokuto, dude, I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t play any of that music around me anymore.” Kuroo high-fived himself internally. Hell yeah, master of confrontation. Go off, king. 

There was an uncomfortable silence as Bokuto’s fingers froze over the keyboard, delaying the creation of the world’s worst literary masterpiece. The sharp click of the space bar as Bokuto paused “1 Hour Studio Ghibli Lofi Hip Hop Mix” sounded like the shot of a rifle (or at least a decently-sized Nerf gun) through the living room. 

“And  _ I  _ thought we agreed that you would stop complaining about this.”

“That is  _ absolutely  _ not what happened.” 

What had actually happened was that they got bored of arguing, agreed on nothing, made out for a few minutes, then stomped off to call their respective boyfriends and complain to a neutral party in the privacy of their own rooms. Neither boyfriend was particularly pleased, nor were they particularly invested in the outcome of the argument.

“Send pictures next time you and Kuroo-san make out, that’s always hot,” deadpanned Akaashi, who was dead inside, both because he was Bokuto’s boyfriend and also because he was studying chemical engineering. 

“Why are you calling me about this?” asked Kenma, who was also dead inside and thus highly compatible with Akaashi. After listening to Kuroo complain for a lengthy 5 minutes, Kenma promptly hung up and walked down the hall to Akaashi’s room, where they proceeded to suffer in silence together. 

In the present, however, there were no exasperated boyfriends to stop the imminent storm of a full-out fight, and say what you will about Bokuto, but the man was a master of rhetorical argumentation. “Listen to this, my dude, is this not the grooviest tune you’ve ever heard in your life?”

“Bro, I  _ am  _ listening- I  _ have  _ been listening- and I’ve never been so fucking confused in my life! The vibe of Studio Ghibli, while immaculate, is not  _ this _ !” Kuroo waved his arms wildly to indicate the musical abomination that was “1 Hour Studio Ghibli Lofi Hip Hop Mix”. “Is this a bop? Yes! Do I jive? Absolutely! Can my brain handle the absolute tomfoolery that is the amalgamation two different flavors of chill beat in one track? No!” 

Though he was wailing like a large and sleep-deprived toddler, Kuroo had a point. Studio Ghibli soundtracks were waking up to the smell of rain, burning the midnight oil to read a good book, light shining through dew-sprinkled leaves as the sun rises, memories of being tucked into bed after a long day of adventuring. Lofi hip hop was fundamentally different- live music at an out-of-the-way coffeeshop, autumn leaves flying through the air like little flickers of flame in the sky, sipping a warm, cinnamon-y drink and feeling warmth blossom through your entire body. The vibes were similar, yet undeniably distinct. 

“I don’t understand the problem! Maybe the vibes don’t jive, but you  _ have  _ to agree that this music is so  _ jazzy _ ! Isn’t it the funkiest, freshest chill beat you’ve ever heard?” Bokuto cried, impassioned. He was not easily deterred by such petty and unreasonable arguments as tonal analysis and musicality. Also, he enjoyed chaos.

“It  _ is  _ jazzy! It’s so fuckin’  _ funky fresh _ that I want to rip my hair out of my skull and also simultaneously cry! Surely god has forsaken us because I have never been so confused by anything in my  _ life _ and I went through middle school sex education as a gay man!” To Kuroo’s shock, he felt real tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. 

“Kubro-” There was an awkward lull in the fight as Bokuto got caught up in Kuroo’s watering eyes and also began to tear up out of empathy.

“No, bro. I can’t do this anymore.” Kuroo shook his head, bitter and melodramatic, and the air in the room dropped approximately 500 degrees Celsius, or it felt like it had, because the look that Kuroo leveled at his best bud was cold enough to stop individual atoms from vibrating.

Bokuto, who had never been governed by anything as logical as the freezing of his atoms’ oscillations at 0 degrees Kelvin, let out a shocked hoot of agony. “No, bro, please. We can try this again, we can figure this out!”

“I thought you were bae…. Turns out you’re just fam.” This time, there was no hiding the single manly tear that escaped from the corner of Kuroo’s eye. 

“Bro-” Bokuto reached out, desperate, heart aching for the warmth of his best bro’s muscley arms, but Kuroo was already turning away, walking back to the front door, smashing his shoes halfway onto his feet without even attempting to respect the integrity of his shoelaces, and leaving.

Bokuto gave himself a few painful seconds to mourn, heat gathering behind his eyes, before pressing the spacebar again and letting the chillest beats vibe straight through his body once more, carrying his hurt away into gentle piano instrumentals and a kickass snare beat. He had a logically weak and structurally questionable essay to write, after all, and the life of a college academic stops for no one, not even a person who just lost their best bro. 

Two hours and five poorly-worded sentences later, there was a small commotion at the front door of the apartment as human train-wreck Kuroo Tetsurou finally came home. 

“Kenma isn’t allowed to have guests overnight since he lives in on-campus housing and Akaashi’s a stickler for rules, so I’m back, I guess.” Kuroo kept his gaze firmly on the floor, seemingly unable to meet Bokuto’s eyes. “Listen, Kou, I’m so sorry-”

“Say no more, you big baby. One silly spat isn’t gonna make me stop loving you. No homo, of course.”

“Of course,” Kuroo said, looking relieved, and he moved closer, straddled Bokuto where he was sitting on the couch, and caressed his face gently. “No homo, bro,” Kuroo whispered, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his best pal’s lips. “No homo.”

**Author's Note:**

> my brain cannot fathom the depths of studio ghibli lofi and that's on me  
> this is definitely a vent fic i cannot handle these musical shenanigans holy shit


End file.
